The Marauders' Match
by A. L. Nowicki
Summary: It's the gang's seventh year, and there are lots of changes to the Hogwarts staff, including a DADA teacher with a Jekyll and Hyde personality and the world's cutest Transfiguration teacher. Can either of them be of any use to the Order?
1. Meet the New Staff

**Disclaimer**: Number one, I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with Harry Potter. Number two, Carla Hanratty and Desmond Gordon are completely made up. They are products of my imagination.

**Author's Note**: This is my first Harry Potter fanfic.

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**The Marauders' Match**

Chapter One: Meet the New Staff

Following the disappearance of Severus Snape, Remus Lupin had been reinstated as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. However, to lesson the burden of teaching on someone who had to transform once a month, a second DADA teacher had been hired to teach at Hogwarts.

Professor Hanratty wouldn't tell anyone what her previous job had been, only that her nickname had been "Old Hickory"—because, just like the former American president Andrew Jackson, she was as tough as a stick of hickory. She may have been only five-foot-four, but when she walked into a room, everyone sat up straight and looked her in the eye. She would tolerate no nonsense.

"Okay, so she's a young Professor McGonagall," Harry Potter said calmly, watching Professor Hanratty chat with the new Headmistress at the staff table. "We can handle that, right, Ron?"

"Harry, she's _worse_ than Professor McGonagall," Ron Weasley gulped. "My dad knows her from the Ministry. Dad says that when she's angry, _keep her wand away from her_. She'll kill someone."

"Oh, so your dad knows her from the Ministry?" Harry asked him. "What did she do there? Whose side is she on?"

"I don't know what she did there, Dad wouldn't tell me." Ron lowered his voice. "But if McGonagall hired her, she'd have to be on the Order's side, right?"

"That's a point," Harry admitted.

Ron had no idea how relieved Harry was to find out Professor Hanratty was most likely on the Order's side. Harry wasn't about to admit it, but he also found Professor Hanratty extremely attractive. The woman was in her early thirties, with short, thick, dark hair and round, full lips. She had the most beautiful pale skin, and a face like Marisa Tomei.

"No matter how strict she is or who's side she's on, you've got to admit she's a lot better to look at than Umbridge," Harry mumbled to his best friend.

"You've got that right, mate."

"What do you think of her, Hermione?" asked Harry, turning to face Hermione Granger.

But Hermione wasn't paying a bit of attention to Harry. She was too busy gazing lovingly at the new Transfiguration teacher.

McGonagall still wanted to teach Transfiguration, but because she had so many new responsibilities as Headmistress, she had also hired another Transfiguration teacher as well. Professor Gordon was probably the cutest teacher that had ever taught at Hogwarts; he looked to be in his late thirties/early forties, stood five-foot-ten, had tanned skin and dark hair that curled at the sides. He had a lively, animated face that lit up when he talked, and a smile that made any girl within a hundred-mile radius fall weak at the knees.

Harry looked around. Every girl at the Gryffindor table from the fourth years on up were staring at their new crush.

Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair. "Attention, please!" she called. The Great Hall went silent.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," McGonagall began. "Now, before we eat, I thought I might introduce our three new teachers this year. First, please joining me in welcoming back Professor Remus Lupin, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for the first through fourth years." There was wild, enthusiastic applause, mostly from the older students who remembered Professor Lupin. The Slytherins, however, weren't applauding at all; they were just staring in disbelief.

"Oh, no! If he only teaches the younger students, we won't have him!" Ron cried. "We'll have the Hanratty woman!"

As the applause died away, McGonagall continued. "Next is Professor Carla Hanratty, who will be teaching the fifth through seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts students. Professor Hanratty comes to us from her previous job at the Ministry of Magic, and I can assure you, she is extremely excited to be here at Hogwarts."

Professor Hanratty stood up from her chair. At first, the applause for her was just lukewarm, but it grew profoundly as she flashed a brilliant, friendly smile that seemed to melt all her toughness away and enhance her attractive looks.

"Maybe she isn't so bad," Harry heard Dean Thomas remark. "She looks friendly enough when she smiles."

"Her smile reminds me of Professor Lockhart's," Ron muttered in disgust.

Professor Hanratty sat down, and her applause died away. "Finally, I would like to introduce Professor Desmond Gordon," McGonagall said. "Professor Gordon will be taking the fifth through seventh year Transfiguration students, seeing as how my new duties as Headmistress prevent me from teaching all of you."

Professor Gordon stood up, flashed his million-dollar smile, and gave a wave. The girls promptly cheered.

"I love how he shows the top row of his teeth when he smiles," Parvati Patil whispered. "His teeth are so perfect!"

"I love his haircut. Itframes his face perfectly," Lavender Brown breathed.

"I wonder if he's an Animagus like McGonagall," Ginny Weasley wondered aloud.

The Slytherin girls, however, just smirked. "He's so _skinny_!" Pansy Parkinson snorted.

"Professor Gordon has been recognized by the Minister of Magic as a magical genius," McGonagall continued proudly. "And Gryffindors, sadly my duties as Headmistress permit me from continuing as your Head of House, so Professor Gordon is going to be your new Head of House."

"Not bad," nodded Ginny in satisfaction.

"Oh, _boy_," Ron mumbled. "Can't McGonagall see? He's just like Lockhart!"

"He is not," Lavender sneered at him. "Lockhart was _handsome_. Professor Gordon is _cute_."

"Besides, I've read all about him. He's _not _a fraud. And you're going to get along with him real well, Harry," Hermione said enthusiastically.

"How do you know?" Harry asked, confused.

Hermione smiled. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

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**Coming Up Next**: Who is Head Boy and Head Girl?

**Author's Note**: Reviews and constructive criticism (no flames, please!) will be accepted graciously!


	2. New Schedules

**Author's Note**: I would like to thank my two reviewers for their reviews! You two really made my day! (Hopefully, when I get more time, I'll be able to do personal responses, but for now, this will have to do.) So here's chapter two!

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**The Marauders' Match**

Chapter Two: New Schedules

The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went down to breakfast as usual. Professor Gordon, the new head of Gryffindor, was passing out their course schedules, starting with the seventh years and working his way down.

"Hermione Granger?" he called out in his gentle, cheerful manner. Hermione blushed at being addressed by the cute teacher and raised a hand.

"Here you are," he said, handing Hermione her schedule. "Oh, and congratulations! You've been made Head Girl!" he presented her with a Head Girl badge. Hermione took it eagerly and pinned it on her robes.

"Headmistress McGonagall would like to apologize for not contacting you over the summer," he said, "but it's been kind of hectic with her stepping up as Headmistress."

"That's all right," breathed Hermione, glowing with pride.

"Head Boy is Ernie MacMillian of Hufflepuff," Professor Gordon continued, pointing towards Ernie at the Hufflepuff table. "I'm sure the Headmistress will be meeting with you two later this week to discuss your responsibilities." He turned back to the schedules. "Harry Potter?"

"Here."

Professor Gordon gave Harry his schedule. "By the way, Harry, you're James Potter's son, am I right?"

Harry was surprised. Professor Gordon knew his father? "Yes, yes I am," Harry said, stuttering at first.

"So you know Professor Lupin, and you've met Sirius Black, too?"

Harry nodded, amazed that a man he had never met before knew who the Marauders were.

"Excellent!" Professor Gordon said eagerly. "I knew your father and his friends quite well!" He picked up the next schedule. "Ron Weasley?"

Ron raised his hand, and Professor Gordon gave him his schedule. "Your father works at the Ministry, doesn't he? I've met him before," he told Ron.

"Really?" Ron looked surprised.

After Professor Gordon was done with them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at their schedules.

"Oh, no!" Ron wailed. "We've got Slughorn this morning, and that Hanratty woman this afternoon!"

"We have that Hanratty woman today?" asked Neville, shaking in fear from head to toe and double-checking his schedule in the hopes that it wasn't true. "My gran knows her."

"Did she say anything about her, Neville?" Harry asked.

Neville shook his head. "No, only that she's bloody strict."

Ginny looked at her sixth-year schedule, which Professor Gordon had just handed to her, and got a big smile on her face. "I have Transfiguration this morning," she beamed.

"Oh, _no_! We don't have Transfiguration until tomorrow," Hermione whined.

At that moment, the mail arrived. As Neville received packages of things he had forgotten at home (as usual,) one of the school owls placed a very large package in front of Hermione.

"It's here!" Hermione said eagerly, tearing open the package to reveal a brand new book.

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes. "Which book is that?" asked Ron, sounding bored.

"The brand new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_," Hermione said excitedly.

At that moment, Professor Lupin was passing by their table. "Oh, is that the 227th edition of _Hogwarts: A History_?" he asked Hermione, and she nodded. "Turn to page 402, Hermione," he told her, smiling.

Hermione did, and squealed excitedly. "Oh, look!" she cried. "Professor Lupin, it's _you_!"

Page 402 was a page dedicated to the Marauders. As the book said, the Marauders were "some of the worst troublemakers in Hogwarts history." In the center of the page was a photo of Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew during their seventh year at Hogwarts, all of them grinning from ear to ear and waving furiously.

"I wonder what else is in there," Harry mused. "Hermione, can I borrow that after you?" He lowered his voice to a soft whisper. "I want to know if there's anything about Voldemort in it."

"Of course, Harry."

"Come on, you lot, it's time to go to Potions," yawned Ron, getting up from the table. "I wonder what Slughorn's got cooked up for us today."

The trio went down to Slughorn's Potions classroom, where Slughorn was waiting for them. "Harry!" the Hogwarts resident party animal exclaimed as Harry entered his class. "Why weren't you at my start-of-term party last night? You did get an invitation, didn't you?"

* * *

"So, how's Professor Gordon?" Hermione asked Ginny eagerly. It was lunchtime, and everyone was seated in the Great Hall after a morning of classes.

"He knows what he's talking about," Ginny nodded. "He knows a lot about Transfiguration."

"Did he perform any magic, so you know he's not a fraud?" Ron asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes he did, Ron. Believe it or not, he's an Animagus. He can transform into a puppy."

"What kind of a puppy?" asked Hermione, interested.

"A golden retriever."

"Awwww!"

"Some of his habits are kind of strange, though," Ginny continued. "For one thing, he puts salt on _everything_, even in the water he drinks. And he can't stand up for long periods of time without feeling dizzy or fainting."

"Maybe he has a medical condition," Hermione suggested. "I hope he's okay!" she worried.

"Listen to you two!" Ron exclaimed, shaking his head. "He's _out of your league_, Hermione! He must be thirty-five years old _at least_!"

"He's fifty-five," said Ginny matter-of-factly. "He told us."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "He's fifty-five years old and he looks like _that_!"

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes as Ginny and Hermione continued to discuss Professor Gordon in awe.

"Come on, Harry, it's almost time for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ron said. "Let's get Professor Hanratty's class overwith."

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**Author's Note**: Feel free to leave more reviews! 


	3. Carla Hanratty

**Author's Note**: Considering I had already finished chapter three before I even put up chapter two, I decided to post them both at once. Enjoy!

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**The Marauders' Match**

Chapter Three: Carla Hanratty

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall to make their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, they saw Professor Hanratty talking to Professor Gordon out in the corridor.

"For the life of me, Desmond, I can't understand why Minerva made you Head of Gryffindor," Hanratty was saying.

"I know, me either. I wasn't even a Gryffindor when I went here," Professor Gordon replied, scratching his fluffy dark hair in confusion.

"Better you than me, I suppose."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But Remus Lupin was a Gryffindor, and he's perfectly capable of handling his own house," Professor Gordon commented.

"That's very odd," Harry mused quietly. "Why would McGonagall assign him to Gryffindor if he wasn't a Gryffindor?"

"I don't care what house he was in, as long as he wasn't a Slytherin," Ron whispered.

"Nah. He's too nice to be a Slytherin," Harry replied. Hermione wasn't paying a bit of attention, but staring lovingly at him as usual.

The trio entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, took out _Dark Arts Defenses for Everybody_, by Selma Carroll, and nervously waited for the class to begin. They weren't the only nervous ones; Neville Longbottom was looking pale in the face. It wasn't long before the door flung open, and there stood a haughty-looking Professor Hanratty. Without even being told, the entire class sat up straight in their chairs. Hermione was poised over a piece of parchment, ready to take notes.

"My name is Professor Hanratty," Hanratty said loud and clear, writing her last name on the board. "And this is N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts." She whipped around. "Why do you all have your books out for?" she snapped angrily. "We don't _read_ in this class. We're here to _learn_!"

All of them put their books away quickly, Harry and Ron breathing sighs of relief.

"Anyway," Hanratty continued, "the good thing is that you'll only have to put up with me for one year before I go back to my previous job. I took this teaching job as a favor to Headmistress McGonagall."

Hermione raised her hand.

Hanratty pointed to her. "You. What's your name?" she demanded.

"Hermione Granger, ma'am."

"What's your question, Hermione?"

Harry and Ron exchanged amused looks. No other teacher called them by their first names except for Professor Lupin, and maybe Professor Slughorn.

"If you don't mind me asking, what was it you did before deciding to teach?"

Professor Hanratty grinned wickedly. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough. I promise." She turned to her desk and picked up her wand, an eleven-inch wand make of pure hickory wood. "Now, I don't tolerate any talking or any horseplay in this class _at all_. One word out of turn, and I send you to straight to the Headmistress. I don't give detentions. I don't _believe_ in detentions, because they don't make you learn your lesson. I went here for seven years too, you know, and I found the same people ended up in detention all the time. It's a useless punishment." She took a swig of pumpkin juice on her desk and continued. "But feel free to ask questions. Asking questions is what helps you learn. And of course, if you can't understand the material, stop by my office and I'll help you out one-on-one. That's what I'm here for."

Professor Hanratty sat down at her desk and opened her own book. "This is the way lessons are going to work. To defend yourself properly against the Dark Arts, you must first understand the Dark Arts. So we will study the inner workings of each subject we learn about before we learn how to defend ourselves against it. LEARN TO FIND WEAKNESSES!" she shouted, aiming her wand straight at a spider on the corner of her desk. The spider exploded in flames.

Ron shakily raised his hand.

Hanratty called on him. "What's _your_ name?"

"Ron Weasley, ma'am. Can you teach _me_ how to do that?" he asked her. "I'm afraid of spiders, and, well…I'd like to know how to kill them."

Professor Hanratty smiled. "Professor Gordon would be better at teaching you that spell than I would. He invented it."

"He did?"

"Of course. Professor Gordon's invented _lots _of spells. He earned the Order of Merlin, First Class, when he was only twenty-one."

"_Wow_," Hermione exclaimed under her breath.

"I've also earned the Order of Merlin, First Class, for my contributions to warding off the Dark Arts," she continued. "In fact, the first topic we'll be studying happens to be my specialty. Please read the chapter in your books on dementors by the next class."

* * *

"Dementors? Her specialty is _dementors_?" Ron asked. He, Harry, and Hermione were in the Gryffindor common room after class. "What if she brings a live dementor into class?"

"I'm not sure McGonagall would allow it, Ron," Hermione said. "But I would like to know a lot more about Professor Hanratty. Did you notice those big snow boots she was wearing? It's September!"

"They are pretty useful, though. No one can hear her when she walks," Harry said. "I didn't hear her coming down the corridor before class."

"I don't know. It seems as if she's the kind of person who's hard on the outside, but soft on the inside," Hermione mused. "She's strict, but I think she'll be a good teacher."

"She doesn't use her wand that much," Ron said. "She just wrote things out on the board the Muggle way, remember?"

"Maybe she's Muggle born," Harry shrugged. "Who knows."

At that moment, the door to the common room opened, and in stepped Lavender and Parvati. "Harry! Ron! Hermione!" Lavender exclaimed. "Come on, you've got to come down here! It's so much fun!"

Confused, the trio got up and followed Lavender all the way down to the dungeons, where a group of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seventh-years were engaged in some kind of game.

"It's called bowling. It's a Muggle sport," Lavender explained. "You three have to try it! It's so much fun! All you do is roll a ball down the hallway and try to knock down those big pins."

"I know what bowling is," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Who taught this to you guys?" Harry asked.

"Professor Hanratty," Lavender beamed, pointing toward their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who was praising Dean Thomas for knocking down eight out of ten pins.

"Excellent, Dean! You're a _fantastic_ bowler!" Professor Hanratty exclaimed excitedly, giving him a pat on the back. "Take one more turn, and then Neville can go." Hanratty looked as if she did when she had smiled last night; every trace of her strict demeanor was melted away, and she looked friendly and welcoming.

"Mrs. Norris!" Parvati Patil suddenly shrieked, pointing to a dark corner. "Look over there, it's Mrs. Norris! Filch will be down here any minute!"

"Hide! Quick, everyone into Professor Slughorn's room!" Hanratty shouted, opening the door to the empty classroom and ushering them all inside. She waved her wand, and the bowling ball and pins disappeared.

Once they were safely inside, Hanratty and some of the Ravenclaws were giggling madly at how they had fooled Filch. Harry turned to Ron. "I don't get it," he whispered, glancing at Professor Hanratty. "It's like she's two different people!"

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**Next Up**: Meet Professor Gordon!

**Author's Note**: Please review!


	4. Desmond Gordon

**Author's Note**: Thanks so much to my kind reviewers who have urged me to continue on with the story! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

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The next morning, the Gryffindors headed off to Transfiguration. Hermione, Lavander, and Parvati eagerly sat up front.

"He's so _cute_," Lavender whispered. "His gentle eyes, and the way he smiles…I just want to melt."

"He's very friendly, too," Parvati added. "And the sixth years told me he tells lots of jokes."

"Professor Hanratty says he's a _brilliant_ wizard," Hermione breathed.

"Just listen to them," Ron nudged Harry from a few rows back. "I'll be surprised if they can learn _anything_ from him if they keep oogling over him."

Professor Gordon cheerfully entered the classroom and closed the door. "Good morning," he smiled, looking more attractive than ever in forest-green robes. "I'm Desmond Gordon, and we're in N.E.W.T. Transfiguration. Please just call me Desmond. This whole 'Professor Gordon' thing is really starting to creep me out." He paused and took a sip of water. "I mean, I start teaching, and all of a sudden I'm a professor. That isn't right. This is the first time I've taught anybody! I'm no professor!" There were scattered giggles throughout the room.

Desmond sat down at his desk. "Now, while we're in class, I sit down a lot, because if I stand up too much, I feel lightheaded. And I do get sick a lot, so you may have a substitute from time to time."

The girls up front let out a very upset "Awwww." At once, the rest of the class started laughing, including Desmond. "I know, a lot of people feel that way," he laughed. "But there's honestly nothing I can do." He took another sip of water. "Anyway, down to work. I'm going to tell you right now that this class is not easy, but I'm going to do everything I can to make it as easy as possible. Most of this year, we'll be transfiguring some very difficult things…including people."

"People!" gasped Ron. "We're going to transfigure _each other_?"

Desmond seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Ron hadn't raised his hand. "That's right. But we won't start doing that until later in the year. For today's lesson, we'll be transfiguring our chairs into wild animals."

Hermione raised her hand. "Professor Gordon--"

"Desmond," he corrected her, smiling.

"I mean, _Desmond_," Hermione said, blushing. "Will you be teaching us how to become Animagi?"

"I wish I could, Hermione, but I'm afraid I can't. The Ministry of Magic won't allow me to. But, if you're seventeen and wish to try it, I could set it up with the proper authorities." Desmond rearranged himself so that he was sitting on his desk, with his chair out in front of him, facing the class. "And now, without further ado, I am going to demonstrate the proper way to turn a chair into a zebra."

* * *

"He kind of reminds you of Professor Lupin, doesn't he?" Ron asked Harry at lunch that afternoon. "He seems like a very nice teacher, but he has a serious health problem--"

"I know," Harry interrupted. "And I'd like to find out exactly what that health problem is."

"Harry, you're getting too carried away," Hermione told him. "Maybe he's just a diabetic, and gets sick when his blood sugar goes out of control."

"But do diabetics crave that much salt, Hermione?" Harry asked in a low tone, nudging his head in Professor Gordon's direction. Up at the staff table, Professor Gordon had a saltshaker in his hand, and was sprinkling massive heaps of salt over anything and everything.

"I'm going to do some research and try to find out what he has," Hermione said softly. "I want to make sure he's okay."

"He's fifty-five years old! I think he can handle it!" Ron said, annoyed.

"Speaking of Professor Lupin," Harry said, trying to prevent a fight between the two of them, "I wonder to see how he's doing. Is Slughorn making him the wolfsbane potion?"

* * *

Within the next few days, which passed by without incident (unless you count the part where Professor Hanratty announced she was in the middle of planning a class trip to Azkaban so they could study dementors more carefully—needless to say, the entire class had balked in horror, but then calmed down because they figured the Ministry couldn't possibly permit it), Hermione had finished the new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_, and passed the book on to Harry.

Harry sat on his bed with the book and immediately flipped to the index. Instead of going through the entire book, he only found it necessary to study the pages where Voldemort was mentioned. But while attempting to locate an index listing for "Lord Voldemort" or "Riddle, Tom," he came across a very interesting listing:

Gordon, Desmond…404, 406

Harry blinked. Professor Gordon was included in this book? He hurriedly turned to page 404. He just _had_ to read about him.

"'Of all the notorious troublemakers that have descended upon Hogwarts through the years, none were more careless or destructive than the Skeleton Crew, a group of eight Ravenclaw students who attended Hogwarts from 1953 to 1961,'" Harry read aloud from the book. "'It was the constant antics of these students that caused Headmaster Arnando Dippet to announce his retirement.'" The page went on to say that the members of the Skeleton Crew currently held the record for the most detentions ever given at Hogwarts. And one of the great eight had been Desmond Gordon.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The friendly, sensitive Transfiguration teacher had been a serious troublemaker? _No way_!

Reading on, Harry found out that the Skeleton Crew's clowning had ranged from harmless practical jokes (suspending a pail above a doorway and bewitching it to pour confetti on top of any person that walked through) to seriously dangerous stunts (dangling an invisible crowbar in the middle of the stairs, causing people to fall down the staircase and break bones.)

With shaking, disbelieving hands, Harry turned to page 406. What else was there on him?

Page 406 listed the current whereabouts of the eight Skeleton Crew members. Unfortunately, there were only three still alive and not in prison. Roebus Lurrus has been murdered in 1971 by Michael Tillford. Julius Koontz had committed suicide in 1985. Michael Tillford was in Azkaban for killing Roebus Lurrus. Rosemary Brawlak was in Azkaban for being a Death Eater. Irene Newport was killed in 1977 by Lord Voldemort. Megara Conway lived in Greece, and was a pop-singing star. Artemis Wilder was a proclaimed Seer, and taught Divination at a Wizarding school somewhere in Scandinavia. And of course, Desmond Gordon had been proclaimed a magical genius, invented loads of new spells, and had worked for the Department of Mysteries before teaching at Hogwarts.

Harry flipped through the next couple of pages. The only other thing the book mentioned was that the Skeleton Crew and the Marauders remained bitter rivals until sometime in the early 1980s, when they had called a truce. The two groups remained good friends ever since.

Harry just stared at the book in amazement. He had had no idea.

"_Hermione_!" he finally shouted as he ran down to the common room.

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**Author's Note**: Remember toleave a review on your way out!


	5. A Shocking Annoucement

**Author's Note**: I would thank my reviewers if I had gotten any reviewers (hint, hint!) Anyway, here's the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy it!

* * *

Hermione was down in the common room working on her Charms essay when she heard Harry yelling for her.

"Hermione!" gasped Harry as he thundered down to the common room. "Did you read…did you read…" Harry couldn't think of any words to say, so he just pointed to the page.

Hermione sighed. "Yeah. I couldn't believe it either. He doesn't seem like that type at all."

"I'd like to know more," Harry told her. "Do you think Professor Lupin would be able to tell us anything?"

"I bet he could. They're good friends, aren't they?"

Harry and Hermione went down to Professor Lupin's office, where they found him grading essays.

"Harry! Hermione!" Professor Lupin exclaimed. "Good to see you!"

"Professor Lupin, I have a question. What do you know about Professor Gordon?"

"Desmond?" Lupin paused. "I know a lot of things about him. Why?"

"I was reading Hermione's new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_, and I came across a very interesting article on him," Harry explained uneasily.

Lupin laughed. "I know. Hard to believe, isn't it? Someone like that, who's very sensitive, and even skinnier than I am? But looks can be deceiving, Harry. Don't worry, though, he's harmless. At most, you'll get confetti dumped on your head if you enter his office."

"Did they really do things like…like trip people who were going down the stairs, and cause them to break their legs?" Hermione asked fearfully.

Professor Lupin took a gulp of Wolfsbane Potion (which Slughorn was indeed making for him) and nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. Desmond was never involved in that, though; he was in it strictly for the humor. The really mean pranks were put on by Michael or Irene."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Professor Lupin, does Professor Gordon have some kind of an illness?"

Professor Lupin froze. "Yes, Hermione, but I'm afraid that's his business. He wouldn't be very happy with me if I went around telling everyone his secret."

"But I'm Head Girl!" Hermione protested. "What if he gets sick right in the middle of a lesson, and he needs medical attention, and nobody knows what to do?"

"If he gets sick right in the middle of a lesson, you'll know what to do. Trust me," Lupin told her.

"But Professor Lupin--"

"I can't tell you any more than that, Hermione. I really can't," Lupin said, sounding impatient. There was a silence.

"Why did McGonagall make him Head of Gryffindor? The book said he was a Ravenclaw," Harry said quietly.

"Probably to keep him out of trouble," Professor Lupin shrugged. "Having a member of the Skeleton Crew on the faculty is a much bigger risk than having a Marauder on the faculty."

* * *

In their next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Hanratty announced that the field trip to Azkaban to study dementors was a go.

"Now, unfortunately, the only way to get there is to take a ferry across the North Sea," she told a classroom full of spellbound students. "So that's exactly what we'll be doing. Next Friday, we'll be taking a portkey to the ferry port, where we will ride the 7:00 AM ferry to Azkaban Island."

Neville Longbottom raised his hand. "But what if we're too afraid to go?"

"Neville, have you ever been to Azkaban?"

Neville shook his head.

"You see? That's why you're afraid! You've never been there!" Professor Hanratty exclaimed. "Don't be afraid, though. You'll all be wearing stress helmets."

Hermione raised her hand. "What's a stress helmet?"

Ron and Harry stared at each other. Never before had they known Hermione to ask a question of that nature. Normally, Hermione knew what _everything_ was and how _everything_ worked.

"See me after class, Hermione," was Professor Hanratty's reply.

* * *

"I can't believe we're actually going," Ron shook. He and Harry were outside waiting for Hermione after class had finished. "I never thought the Ministry would allow it."

"Me neither," Harry gulped. "Ron, I can't go! You know how dementors affect me!"

"What are you talking about? You can do a perfect Patronus."

"That's true, but there must be _thousands_ of dementors out there. _Millions_, maybe! All of them under the control of Voldemort!" Harry shook. "Maybe Voldemort will plan an attack! Professor Hanratty is _crazy_ for sending us out there!"

"Maybe you should talk to Professor Lupin," Ron encouraged him. "Lupin's in the Order, and he knows how you get around dementors. Maybe he can talk Professor Hanratty out of sending you on the field trip."

"Maybe he can talk her out of sending _all_ of us on the field trip," Harry thought aloud. "Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll talk to Professor Lupin."

Just then, Hermione walked out the classroom door.

"What did she say?" Ron asked immediately.

"She gave me this book to read," Hermione replied, showing him a book entitled _An Unabridged History of the Azkaban Prison_, by Julian Brawlak. "She thinks I'll like it."

Harry stared at it, and pointed to Julian Brawlak's name. "Isn't there a member of the Skeleton Crew with the last name of Brawlak?"

"Yeah, Julian Brawlak is Rosemary Brawlak's brother. Professor Hanratty says he's an expert on Azkaban. In fact, we'll be meeting him when we go there next Friday." She sounded cheerful.

"You're not afraid of going?" Ron asked her.

"No, why should I be? She told me what a stress helmet was." Before Harry or Ron could ask what a stress helmet was, Hermione continued. "By the way, did you know that Professor Gordon first came up with the idea for the stress helmet?"

* * *

**Coming Up Next**: Will Lupin save Harry from going to Azkaban?

**Author's Note**: Please leave a review!


	6. The Tampered Textbook

**Author's Note**: Once again, I don't really have people to thank for reviews, but I just want to say thank you to everyone who's been reading and keeping up with the story. Here's the next chapter.

* * *

"HARRY! RON!"

Harry and Ron were in the common room working on their Potions essays for Slughorn when Hermione came dashing out of the girls' dormitory later that afternoon, screaming for them.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked her.

"You'll never believe this," said Hermione frantically, holding up the book on Azkaban she had gotten from Professor Hanratty. "I was reading the book Professor Hanratty gave me, okay? And I came across a section of the book where all the pages had been torn out." She opened up the book and showed them. Harry and Ron looked, and noticed that a good hunk of pages had been torn out right in the middle.

"Yeah. So?" Ron prompted.

"_So_, I turned to the table of contents to see which pages the book was missing, and it turns out that the ripped-out pages are a chapter all about _her_!" Hermione flipped to the Table of Contents to prove it. Sure enough, the listing for chapter eight read as follows:

8. CARLA HANRATTY………pp. 164-193

"That's really odd," Harry agreed. "It looks like she tore out the pages because she purposely didn't want you to read them, Hermione."

"But what could the book possibly say about her?" Hermione wondered aloud. "There's a _whole chapter_ dedicated to her!"

"I doubt it would be anything special. Probably just her achievements in dementor research, or something," Ron said, waving a hand. "She probably isn't the type who likes to show off."

Hermione thought. "Do you think that there exists a spell to grow back torn-out pages of a book?"

"I don't know," Harry said truthfully.

"We should ask a teacher," Ron said. "Harry, didn't you need to see Lupin anyway?"

* * *

A few minutes later, the trio was sitting in Lupin's office drinking pumpkin juice. Lupin was flipping through one of the many spell books he kept around.

"A spell that grows back torn pages?" Lupin asked as he turned the thin pages of a book that looked as if it were 5000 pages long. "As far as I know, no such spell exists, Hermione." Hermione looked disappointed.

"However, I'm not positive," he continued. "The only person that would probably know for sure is Professor Gordon. _He's_ the spell expert."

"Is he in his office right now?" she asked hopefully.

"I'm not sure. You should go and check."

Hermione took the book back, thanked Professor Lupin once more, and left for Professor Gordon's office. Ron and Harry stayed behind. "Professor Lupin, I have to ask you something," Harry told him. "You know that Professor Hanratty's planning to take us to Azkaban, right?"

Professor Lupin shook his head and laughed. "Yes, I know. She even asked me to help chaperone. That crazy Carla."

"But doesn't she know the dementors are siding with Voldemort?" Harry blurted out.

"She knows perfectly well, Harry. But didn't she tell you that you'd be wearing stress helmets?"

"Yeah, but what _are _stress helmets, anyway?" Ron asked.

"A stress helmet is a cap you put on your head that keeps the dementors from knowing you're there. If you're wearing a stress helmet, a dementor cannot sense any of your feelings, and therefore, it cannot sense _you_."

"Whoa," Ron mumbled. "I didn't even know they existed!"

"They were just invented. Professor Gordon came up with the idea for them, and a man named Julian Brawlak perfected them. Mr. Brawlak has been declared a magical genius because of it."

"That's the guy that wrote Hermione's book," Harry said.

"Yes, I like Julian. He's a good friend of mine. He offered me a job once," Lupin reminisced.

"Anyway," Harry continued. "If I wear a stress helmet, the dementors may not be able to sense me, but Voldemort still might know I'm there. I'm really nervous about going. I was wondering if you could talk to Professor Hanratty for me and--"

"And try to get you out of it?" Professor Lupin smiled.

"Yes," Harry said quietly.

"I'll try, Harry, but it's no guarantee. They say she's as hard to crack as a coconut."

"Thanks."

"And while you're at it," Ron added, "would you mind getting me out of it as well?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione knocked on Professor Gordon's office door.

"Come in," called a gentle voice from inside. Hermione opened the door and came face-to-face with the cute Transfiguration teacher. Professor Gordon was seated at his desk, looking very weary as he poured through some old books.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, still very tired. "Come in and sit down. What do you need?"

Hermione sat down in front of his desk. She had expected his office to be a shrine to the Skeleton Crew, but it was far from it; instead, it was bookish and contemporary. The only thing worth mentioning was a chain that was hanging down from the ceiling. Hermione stared at it. "What's that for?" she asked, pointing to it.

Professor Gordon laughed. "That's a reminder of my own Hogwarts days. When I went here, Filch the caretaker would hang us by our thumbs in the dungeons if we did something wrong. So when I feel like being hard on you students, I look at the chain and remember how much school has changed since I went here."

Hermione just smiled. "Anyway, I came here to ask you a question. Do you know of any spell that re-grows pages that have been torn out of a book?"

Professor Gordon thought. "There's a spell that can re-attach torn pages, but I honestly can't think of one that would grow the pages back." He paused. "Is there a specific book with torn pages that you were hoping to read?"

Hermione held out the book about Azkaban. Professor Gordon took it and flipped through it for a few minutes. "Did Professor Hanratty lend this to you?" he asked at last.

"Yes," Hermione said quietly.

"I thought so." He closed the book. "Listen, Hermione, how about I hold onto this for a while? I'll work on it for you. Maybe I can find out how to re-grow the missing pages back."

"Yes," Hermione repeated again. "Thank you, Professor Gordon."

"_Desmond_."

"Desmond," she corrected herself, blushing. She thanked him once more and then got up to leave, but then turned around as she reached the door. "Desmond, are you all right? You look awfully tired."

Professor Gordon pushed a lock of dark hair out of his weary eyes. "I'm fine," he assured her quietly. "Please don't worry about me."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Please leave a review! I just want to know that there are people out there who are still interested, so I can continue writing the story! 


	7. Harry's Good News

**Author's Notes**: Hey there! Sorry this took so long to update…it just wasn't on my priority list for a long time, but now it is. I'm determined to finish.

I would just like to thank all of my reviewers who have inspired me to continue. Please continue to review! Your reviews mean a lot to me!

And now, without further ado, here is chapter seven. What's going to happen next?

* * *

The next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione reported to their morning Transfiguration class to find that Lupin was in charge.

"Professor Gordon is very sick, so today the Headmistress has asked me to teach for him," Lupin told the seventh year Gryffindors. "And apparently, a few of you still need help transfiguring your chairs into wild animals. Today, we're going to spend the class period perfecting that spell. After all, you can't learn to transfigure your desks until you know how to transfigure your chairs."

Lavender Brown raised a hand. "Will Professor Gordon be all right?" she asked quietly. As thrilled as she was to see Professor Lupin again, she was still extremely upset that the cutest teacher in school was out sick.

"He'll be fine, Lavender. You shouldn't worry about him."

"He didn't look well when I went to see him yesterday about the book," Hermione whispered to Ron and Harry. "He was all pale and tired."

Parvati Patil had her hand in the air. "Professor Lupin, it isn't anything serious is it?"

Harry was expecting to hear a "Of course not, Parvati," but Lupin actually thought for a moment before answering her question. "It isn't anything that he can't handle, Parvati," he finally said. "Now, please, let's get to the lesson. Everyone on their feet, with wands out. Who's mastered the spell and thinks they can demonstrate it for the class?"

* * *

"I hope he's okay."

"I wonder if he's in the hospital wing. Could we go and visit him?"

"No, he's not in the hospital wing. A group of fifth years already went there to find out."

Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione were discussing Professor Gordon's condition worriedly after class.

"Listen to them!" Ron hissed to Harry as they made their way through the halls. "They're talking as if he's the only man left on Earth!"

"I agree," came a familiar voice from behind them.

Harry and Ron turned around. Professor Hanratty was standing in the doorway to her office. Harry glanced down at her feet; she was wearing those silent snow boots again. _She really ought to take those off,_ Harry thought to himself. _She'll sneak up behind someone one of these days and scare them half to death!_

"They ought to leave poor Desmond alone," Professor Hanratty continued. She was smiling her warm smile. "Anyway, Harry, could I see you in my office, please? You're not in trouble. I just need to talk to you for a few moments."

After telling Ron he'd meet him up in the common room, Harry stepped inside of Professor Hanratty's office. He couldn't help but gasp; the entire office was done in black and white. The floor was black-and-white tile, the walls were white with black framed pictures, and the furniture was black and white leather. It was the ugliest Harry had ever seen.

Okay, maybe not the _complete_ ugliest. Umbridge had been worse.

"I'm sorry," Hanratty apologized. "I know it's hideous. But this is what my old office was like, so until my new furniture comes in, this is what I'm stuck with." She gestured toward a white leather chair for Harry, and sat down at her black metal desk. "Where I used to work, we were too busy to worry about office décor. Please sit down."

Harry sat in the leather chair, which was surprisingly very comfy. He looked up at Professor Hanratty; she was so pretty, with her dark curls and her soft blue eyes. She was wearing bright red lipstick on those beautiful lips, and Harry just couldn't believe how clear and milky-white her skin was. Not a blotch to be seen.

"Listen, Harry, Remus Lupin talked to me about your situation," Professor Hanratty told him. "And I want you to know that I wouldn't have planned this field trip had I not thought carefully about each and every student."

"I understand," Harry said quietly. "And I know we'll be wearing stress helmets, but I still get very nervous. How many dementors are there out at Azkaban, anyway?"

"Four thousand, four hundred and twenty-seven."

"Whoa," Harry mused quietly.

"Anyway," Hanratty continued, "like I said, Professor Lupin talked to me about your situation and told me you wished to opt out of the field trip. Normally, I wouldn't grant such a request, but since he made such a convincing argument, I'm willing to permit it. You don't have to go with us, Harry."

It took Harry a moment to grasp what she was telling him. "I…I don't have to go?" he asked, trying to keep his excitement under control.

"That's right. Mainly because if the Dark Lord ever found out you were going to be at Azkaban…well, I'd shudder to think what would happen," Hanratty told him. "We Order members have to look out for each other."

First one big shock, and then another. Harry's jaw dropped. "You're…you're in the _Order_!" he exclaimed.

Hanratty smiled and nodded. "Mmm-hmm. I was a member of the old Order, but when the new one started up, they forgot to notify me. But that's perfectly understandable; I used to live out in the middle of nowhere." She yawned. "You know, the Headmistress and I are trying to get Professor Gordon to join, but he's one pretty tough cookie. You'd think he would _want_ to join, because one of his best friend was ripped to pieces by a Death Eater, but for some reason, he wants to remain neutral."

Harry decided to ask Professor Hanratty about Professor Gordon. _Who knows, she might actually tell me,_ he thought. He cleared his throat. "Um, Professor…I hear Professor Gordon's ill. How sick is he? Is he going to be all right?"

Professor Hanratty sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Harry couldn't tell _what_ she was thinking. "I said it once, and I'll say it again," she finally muttered. "I don't know why Minerva made him head of Gryffindor."

* * *

"Ron, I have good news and bad news," Harry told his best friend at lunch. "The good news is that Lupin was able to get me out of the field trip. I don't have to go."

Ron gasped. "You _don't_? Lupin talked her into letting you stay here?"

"Yeah! As it turns out, she's a long lost member of the Order! She understands that Voldemort might try something if he knew I was visiting Azkaban."

"Oh, well, there you have it. If she wasn't in the Order, Harry, she'd probably make you go anyway."

"Yeah. But the bad news is, _you_ still have to go."

"WHAT?"

"Shhh!" Harry hissed him. "Yeah. As I was leaving, she told me to tell you that you're still going. She doesn't care what you say."

Ron paused. "I'll just become ill the day of the field trip. Maybe I'll get Fred and George to send me some Puking Pastilles."

"There you go. There's an idea."

Hermione arrived and flung her bag down on the table. "I give up," she announced. "I've asked just about every teacher. No one will tell me what Professor Gordon has, not even Madam Pomfrey or McGonagall!"

"For the last time, _leave him alone_, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "I swear, you're _in love_ with him! He's too old for you, and he could have a wife and kids! You don't know anything about him!"

"He isn't married. He never wears a wedding band," Hermione replied huffily. "And _no_, Ronald, I'm _not_ in love with him. I'm just extremely worried."

Ron and Harry looked at each other. They were fighting a losing battle.

"By the way," Harry said casually, "Hanratty says I don't have to go on the field trip."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Well? Tell me what you think! Hopefully, the next chapter will be up soon! 


	8. Queen of the Dementors?

**Author's Note**: Here's chapter eight! Hermione finally puts that brain of hers to work…

* * *

Hermione gasped. "She actually let you out of going to Azkaban? But I thought she never--"

"She's a member of the Order, Hermione," Harry told her. "When Dumbledore started up the new Order, he forgot to notify her until recently, because apparently, she lived out in the middle of nowhere, and it was easy for him to forget about her."

Hermione sat back in her chair, deep in thought. Suddenly, she gasped again. "Harry, I _have_ it!" she exclaimed quietly. "I've solved the mystery! I know what she did before she came here!"

"What?" Ron asked.

"She was in charge of Azkaban."

"No way," Harry said flatly.

"I'm telling you, it's true!" Hermione hissed. "Think about it. Her specialty is dementors. There's an entire chapter of a book on Azkaban written about her. She lived out in the middle of nowhere…Azkaban's in the middle of nowhere. It's an island out in the North Sea."

"She's bloody strict, but I bet that's because she's strict with the prisoners there," Ron said quietly, starting to catch on. "And sometimes…sometimes her fun side slips out. Like the bowling in the dungeons last week."

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed.

"And what about those snow boots?" Harry asked. He was still in disbelief. There was just no way that someone would be able to live out at Azkaban for as long as Professor Hanratty had and still look that attractive. Azkaban snatched the beauty right out of a person.

"According to the book she gave me, it snows all the time out there," Hermione told him. "All those dementors floating around just freeze everything right up. Humans come down with pneumonia left and right. I bet she's just used to wearing them." There was a silence.

"No wonder she keeps her previous job a secret," said Ron quietly. "If McGonagall had told us she had ruled Azkaban, I would've panicked."

"_Fine_!" Harry exclaimed angrily. "If you think you know it all, Hermione, what's Professor Gordon's condition? Why haven't you figured _that_ out yet?"

"Do you think he's a member of the Order, too?" Ron asked. "Or would he be too weak, do you reckon?"

"Hanratty's been trying to get him to join, she told me," Harry told him, taking a deep breath. "She reckons he would, but he's too scared. A friend of his got torn to pieces by a Death Eater."

"Irene Newport," said Hermione immediately. She paused. "I know that Professor Lupin won't tell us anymore than he already has. If only there was more on the Skeleton Crew…the library just _has_ to have something on them. Or _Filch_ would! Do you think Filch's punishment records date all the way back to the 1950s? I bet he has an entire _closet _full of stuff on them!"

"I wouldn't doubt it," Ron told her. "But if we're sneaking in to Filch's office, I'm certainly not going. You're on your own, Hermione!"

Hermione sighed. "Fine. Harry, can I borrow your invisibility cloak? You do have it, don't you?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, still thinking about Professor Hanratty. Deep down, he knew Hermione was right. All of the pieces fit together; she was definitely connected to Azkaban somehow. He hadn't even known that Azkaban was run by a human instead of a dementor, but Hermione seemed to know what she was talking about, as usual. Had Professor Hanratty once held what Harry believed to be the most evil job in creation?

"Wait!" Harry blurted out.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed. "Hagrid would be able to tell us for sure if Hanratty ran Azkaban. He was there just a couple of years ago, wasn't he? When they suspected him as the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Do you think he'd want to talk about it?" Hermione asked wearily.

"You know he will, Hermione. If we butter him up enough, he'll blurt out anything. Maybe he knows about Professor Gordon, too."

"I'd rather talk to him than have one of us sneak into Filch's office," Ron agreed.

"All right, that's what we'll do, then," Hermione told them. "Tonight we'll pay a visit to Hagrid."

* * *

Hagrid had been very upset, almost depressed, since Dumbledore had died. Therefore, a visit from Harry, Ron, and Hermione cheered him up considerably.

"So, how have classes been going?" Hagrid asked as he poured them tea that evening in his hut. "This new class of third years I have for Care of Magical Creatures, they all seem a little scared of the class. I haven't the faintest idea why."

The trio excused amused looks. "Classes have been okay," said Harry finally. "We have both of the new teachers this year. Professor Hanratty planned a field trip for us already."

"So I heard," Hagrid grumbled. "Boy, is she a crazy one. I can't believe the Headmistress actually gave her permission to take you all to…well, you know."

"Azkaban?" Harry prompted.

"Yeah," Hagrid said, shivering at the name of the place. There was a silence.

"Hagrid?" asked Hermione slowly. "Do…do you know if Professor Hanratty has some sort of a connection with Azkaban?"

Hagrid was silent. "I'm not in the mood to discuss that," he said finally.

"But she's in the Order, you know!" Rob protested. "We have to know about her! Hermione thinks she used to work out there!"

"I said I'm not in the mood to discuss it," Hagrid said firmly. "I refuse to discuss anything associated with that place!"

Hermione sent Harry a look that said, 'I told you so.' But Harry wasn't looking at her; he was planning his next move.

"At any rate, Professor Gordon doesn't send us on any dangerous field trips," Harry finally said. "He seems like a really nice teacher."

Hagrid brightened almost immediately. "I like Desmond," he said with satisfaction. "Pity he gets so sick all the time. It was a problem when he went here, too. He would be in the hospital-- and I mean the regular hospital, not the hospital wing here-- at least a couple of times a year."

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked immediately.

Hagrid scratched his head. "McGonagall keeps telling me the name of his illness, but I forget. Something to do with one of his body systems. Anyway, he has it under control. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Are you sure you don't know the name of it?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. But if you want to know more about him, I'd talk to Lupin. He knows basically everything there is to know on him."

"We tried that already," Harry said quietly. "It didn't quite work out."

"Well then, Harry, I'd say you're meddling in things you shouldn't be meddling in."

The trio just looked at each other in disdain. It was time to sneak into Filch's office.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Please review! I'll try to have the next chapter up soon! 


	9. Not Idiots, but Monsters

**Author's Note**: Here's the latest installment of our exciting adventure! What's going to happen next?

* * *

The next day, Harry and Ron sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, waiting for the class to begin. As Harry was leafing through his notes from the last class (Professor Hanratty had a habit of putting students on the spot with questions that reviewed material from previous classes), Hermione arrived and sat down in her usual seat.

"Guess what," she whispered to Harry and Ron. "You're never going to believe this, but the library has absolutely nothing on either Desmond Gordon or the Skeleton Crew. They used to, but as soon as Professor Gordon was appointed as a teacher here, he requested that all information about him be removed from the library."

"Why?" asked Ron, confused.

"Well, if everyone found out that mischief making can still secure you a decent job after Hogwarts, he reckoned that everyone would resort to mischief making."

Harry actually laughed. "Well, Lupin's taught here before, and mischief wasn't exactly on the rise."

"That's true, but apparently, the Skeleton Crew has a much bigger reputation than the Marauders do. I overheard McGonagall say last weekend how she remembers when Professor Gordon was fourteen years old and slipping spiders in people's pumpkin juice when they weren't looking."

Ron's eyes went wide. He was afraid of spiders. "He actually _did_ stuff like that?"

"Well, it's better than what Michael Tillford did. McGonagall said that he actually _poisoned_ people's pumpkin juice. Students were vomiting, and a Hufflepuff girl nearly died." Ron and Harry both gulped.

"When my dad and his friends were that age, they were idiots," Harry muttered after a while, remembering a horrible memory from his fifth year. "When Professor Gordon and his friends were that age, they were _monsters_!"

"Exactly," Hermione said seriously. "I think we've seriously underestimated the Skeleton Crew."

"But as dangerous as it sounds, I'd still like to sneak into Filch's office," Harry whispered. "Who knows? He might actually have Gordon's illness documented somewhere. Filch saves _everything_."

"I still don't understand why you two want to do this so badly," Ron shuddered. "Once again, why can't we just leave the poor man alone?"

"The more we know about him, Ron, the more we can convince him to join the Order," Hermione told him. "I think that's our ultimate goal here. We need a magical genius in the Order."

"Do you three have something to share with the class?" a loud, clear voice asked.

The three of them paled and turned toward the front of the classroom, where Professor Hanratty was standing. "There will be no outside talking in my class, and _that's final_!" she bellowed. "Next time, I'm sending all of you to the Headmistress!"

* * *

"Professor Gordon still wasn't in class today. I hope he's okay!"

"I wrote to St. Mungo's, but they said he isn't listed as a patient there."

"I just posted his picture above my bed, and I kiss him goodnight every night. Did you know he was a Ravenclaw, too?"

"He should be _our_ Head of House. Professor Flitwick can go to Gryffindor."

Ernie MacMillan and Hermione, who met in the library every Wednesday afternoon to go over what was going on in the school (as Head Boy and Head Girl, they felt that they should,) couldn't help but listen as a bunch of Ravenclaw sixth-year girls—none of them Luna Lovegood—made their way past the table.

"Listen to them," Ernie said, shaking his head in disgust.

Hermione blushed. "Well, from a girl's standpoint, you have to admit that Professor Gordon _is_ something to look at."

"Which brings me to the first point I wanted to bring up," Ernie told her. "I had a meeting with McGonagall this morning, and it seems that Gordon may have to resign as Head of Gryffindor."

Hermione was devastated. "_What_?" she cried. "Why?"

"Mostly because he's never been a teacher before, and he's still trying to adjust to it. McGonagall said that whenever she walked past his office last week, there was a line of students—mostly girls—waiting to see him."

Hermione clenched her fist. "Ooooh, that's not _right_!" she near exploded. "I bet they don't need help. They're just playing dumb to spend more time with him."

"I know you're right," Ernie agreed. "But imagine trying to plan your next lesson when you have a line of ten students waiting to see you. When you add being Head of Gryffindor on top of it, it's breaking him, Hermione."

Hermione sighed. "I feel bad," she admitted. "A couple of days ago, Professor Hanratty gave me this book to read, but a few pages were missing. I took it to him and asked him to grow the pages back, because I knew he could do it…I read he was a magical genius."

"It's all right. We either need to make an announcement to the other students and tell them not to bother him, or else he has to give up being Head of Gryffindor. Depending on how ill he is, he may even resign."

Hermione gasped quietly. "Do you _know_ how ill he is, Ernie? What's he got?"

"I don't know. McGonagall refuses to tell me."

"But you're Head Boy! And I'm Head Girl!"

"_I know_! I bet she thinks we'll tell all the other students, and she doesn't want his big secret slipping out."

"Yeah, I guess."

Unbeknownst to Ernie and Hermione, they were being watched. A few moments ago, McGonagall had entered the library to return some books she had been using for her beginner Transfiguration classes, and Madame Pince had nudged her, gesturing toward Ernie and Hermione. The two faculty members had listened for a moment, and then turned to look at each other, looks of pain and pity on their faces.

"They _are _Head Boy and Head Girl, Minerva," said Madame Pince, the librarian, in a low voice.

"I know," said McGonagall quietly. "And I've been doing some thinking. Remus told me that Miss Granger brought up the concern of knowing what to do in case Desmond gets ever sick in the middle of a lesson. Maybe we should let them know. What do you think?"

Madame Pince was silent for a moment. "I think that if you told them about the problems he's been having, you'd tell them about his illness, too."

"Then it's settled," McGonagall shrugged after a brief pause. She walked briskly over to Ernie and Hermione's table.

"Miss Granger? Mr. MacMillan?" she asked them quietly. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing your conversation. Would the two of you please come up to my office for a moment? I have something to let you in on."

* * *

**Author's Note**: Please leave a review on your way out! (I want to know if people are still interested in the story...)


	10. Snooping in Filch's Office

**Author's Note**: Thank you to my two wonderful reviewers from chapter 9! This chapter is dedicated to you two! I'm glad you both find it so interesting!

And now, here's the next installment:

* * *

Hermione didn't return to the Gryffindor common room until it was nearly dinnertime. Her face was red, and her eyes were watery. She had definitely been crying. 

"Hermione, is everything okay?" asked Harry. "You look very upset. What were you and Ernie talking about?"

Hermione only wiped her eyes with her sleeve as a reply. "You wouldn't believe…I never knew…" she sobbed, and then burst into a fresh bout of tears. "He's _so sick_, Harry!" she bawled.

"Who? Professor Gordon?"

"Yeah!" Hermione cried, trying to keep herself under control, but not really succeeding. She continued to sob. "McGonagall just told Ernie and I because she reckoned we should know…you won't believe what that poor man goes through, you just won't believe it…"

"Calm down, Hermione. Everything's going to be okay."

"No, it's _not _going to be okay! He _can't be cured_, Harry!"

"Well, how old is he, now?" Ron asked, speaking for the first time. "Fifty-something? If he's lived this long with it--"

"But he's very weak, he gets weaker every year."

"_What does he have_, Hermione?" Harry asked urgently.

"I'm not…I can't…I'm not allowed to tell you. I told McGonagall I wouldn't," Hermione wept, heading up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. "And I'm not hungry. Go to dinner without me."

As soon as Hermione was up the stairs, Harry and Ron just looked at each other.

"It has to be a Muggle illness," Harry said finally. "It just has to be, because his magical abilities certainly aren't impaired by it. Let's see, he craves salt…he can't stand up for long periods of time…he gets sick often…I give up, Ron. I've never heard of an illness with those symptoms. How about you?"

"Me neither, Harry," Ron added. "But I know that Hermione won't tell us, so…when should we sneak down to Filch's?"

* * *

Luckily for Harry and Ron, Peeves decided to smash a very historic and expensive chandelier that evening, so while Filch was busy cleaning up broken glass—and McGonagall was busy screaming—Harry and Ron slipped under Harry's Invisibility Cloak and snuck into Filch's office. 

"Stay under the cloak," Harry warned Ron as they closed the door after stepping inside his office. "You never know when he's going to come back."

"Right," Ron replied. "How do you reckon he has these organized? By name, or by date?"

"I'm pretty sure it's by name, but if Gordon went here 40 years ago, his file wouldn't be out in the open. His papers would be stashed away in a closet somewhere."

"But maybe Filch has been refreshing his memory," Ron suggested. "Maybe he recently dug out Gordon's papers to read back through them, you know, because he was appointed as a teacher here."

"You know, you may be right," Harry agreed. "Come on, let's go over towards his desk."

As Harry was sorting through the papers on top of Filch's desk, Ron nudged him and pointed to one of the desk drawers, which was labeled, "CURRENT TEACHERS."

"Am I a genius, or what?" Ron laughed.

"You're a genius," Harry nodded, opening the drawer with his wand and taking out the first file. "Ron, look!" he gasped. "It's _Professor Lupin's_ file!"

Ron snatched the file from Harry, which was labeled, "LUPIN, REMUS JOHN, GRYFFINDOR, 1971-1978." He opened it to the first page and began to read. "Look Harry, he got detention on April 2, 1972! For being out of bed after hours!"

"That's interesting, Ron, but we're looking for Gordon's," Harry reminded him. He bent down and picked up the next file out of the teachers' drawer. "Look, it's Hanratty's!" he exclaimed. He showed Hanratty's file to Ron, which read, "HANRATTY, CARLA JEAN, SLYTHERIN, 1980-1986."

"She was a Slytherin," said Ron, shaking his head in disgust. "I knew it! She's just too evil!"

"She's not evil," Harry fought back. "But look...she only attended Hogwarts for six years!"

Ron did the math in his head, and concluded that Harry was right. "That's a mystery for some other time," he reminded his friend. "Where's Gordon's?"

Harry put Hanratty's aside and reached for the next one. "Ron, this is it!" he gasped, reading the label. "It's Professor Gordon's file!" He showed the file to Ron, which was labeled, "GORDON, DESMOND JEROME, RAVENCLAW, 1953-1960." While Lupin's file had been thick enough, and Hanratty's normal-sized, Gordon's file took up the majority of Filch's desk drawer. Harry had to lift it out with both hands.

"Open it, mate!" Ron cried.

Harry did. The first page was a listing of all the school rules that Professor Gordon had ever broken, along with the punishments he had received. There must have been a hundred of them. "He tied another Ravenclaw to a chair and _set her robes on fire_?" Harry asked, reading the list with his eyes wide.

"He _threatened_ a _teacher_?" Ron cried. "Oh, look at the punishment! He got his _thumbs hung in the dungeons _for that one!"

Harry laughed. "Look at this one, Ron. He shoved a Malfoy down _a flight of stairs_! I would've congratulated him for that one!"

Ron was just in awe. "He disrespected a Malfoy, and he's still alive?"

"We ought to ask him why he did it."

"If Draco's relatives are anything like he is, Harry, I think I _know_ why he did it! And look, Filch didn't even punish him! He just took 10 points from Ravenclaw!"

Harry and Ron gawked at Professor Gordon's punishment record for a few more minutes. "Harry, I bet this is more trouble than your father and godfather _ever_--" Ron began.

"I know," Harry nodded. "Maybe sometime we can snatch this thing sometime and read the entire list. But we've _got _to find any mention of his illness."

"Right," Ron remembered.

Harry flipped through the rest of Professor Gordon's punishment record until he came to another sheet. "Jackpot!" he whispered. "This looks to be a basic fact sheet. Look, that's his parentage…looks like he's a half-blood…his birthdate is April 29, 1942…"

"According to his Muggle primary school teacher, his IQ is a 182," Ron read. "Is that good?"

"Good? Ron, that's a _genius_ IQ!" Harry turned the page and saw the next heading. "_Look, Ron_! _This is it_! His history of unusual diseases…"

At the very moment that they were going to read about Professor Gordon's history of unusual diseases, the door to Filch's office creaked, and Harry and Ron both looked up. Mrs. Norris had wondered in.

"Mrs. Norris!" Ron gasped. "Quick, Harry, let's get out of here!"

"Careful, Ron! We're still under the cloak!"

Harry shut Gordon's file and loaded it back into the drawer, placing Hanratty's and Lupin's on top. He shut the desk drawer and he and Ron carefully moved toward the door. They slipped out the door just in time to see Filch headed straight toward them, accompanied by McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout.

"That chandelier was 524 years old!" Sprout was fuming. "I have no idea what possessed Peeves to do such a---"

"The full moon is in three more days," McGonagall interrupted her, her voice heavy with worry. "If Desmond isn't feeling better by then, we'll have two faculty members out sick. I don't think I can handle two out at once! And now a priceless chandelier is destroyed! This school is falling apart!"

"Calm down, Minerva. I'll go see Slughorn about brewing a muscle-relaxing potion for Remus following the full moon. It may speed up his recovery," Sprout said generously.

"Thank you, that would be wonderful!" McGonagall replied. "And Filch, write up Peeves' report right away. I want the harshest punishment possible!"

Harry and Ron, still under the invisibility cloak as the group filed into Filch's office, looked at each other in awe.

* * *

**Author's Note**: What do you think? Leave a review! 


	11. Why Did She Lie?

**Author's Note**: Thanks, imakeeper, for your review of chapter 10. For everyone else: I'm sorry I haven't updated recently, but I've been working on other projects. But now back to our story...

* * *

Harry and Ron agreed that they'd need to make one more trip back into Filch's office to examine Professor Gordon's file again, but they couldn't agree on when to do it. After all, they couldn't just ask Peeves to just destroy another chandelier.

Meanwhile, Professor Gordon remained ill…Lupin was teaching his classes again the next day. Hermione became very quiet—almost mournful—whenever somebody else mentioned Professor Gordon's name.

Hermione's quietness continued into Friday, when Professor Hanratty went over some details of the Azkaban trip with the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"The field trip is a week from today," she reminded the class in her stern lecturing tone. "What we're going to do is, we're going to meet here in this room at 6:00 AM. Then we'll be taking a portkey over to the Azkaban Island ferry, which leaves at seven. The ferry trip is about three hours. We'll return to Hogwarts late in the afternoon; I hope to have a more complete schedule for you all by Monday's class."

Dean Thomas had his hand in the air. "Yes, Dean?" Professor Hanratty asked.

"Why can't we just take a portkey straight to Azkaban?"

"It's forbidden by the Ministry," she told him. "The only way the Ministry permits entry onto Azkaban Island is by Muggle transportation."

Lavender Brown raised her hand. "What do we wear?" she asked when Hanratty called on her.

"Lavender, that's an excellent question!" Hanratty brightened. "Due to the large number of dementors, Azkaban Island is extremely cold," she told the class. "And 'extremely cold' would even be an understatement. This time of year, in early September, expect the temperatures to hover around zero degrees Celsius. So dress for winter weather. And boots are a _must_!" she stressed, lifting her leg up onto a chair and raising her robes to show her heavy snow boots to the class.

Neville raised his hand shakily into the air. "When do we get our stress helmets?" he asked.

"They'll be distributed on the ferry shortly before we arrive on the island. And I'll also be giving everyone bars of chocolate." There were sighs of relief.

Watching Hanratty stand at the front of the class and talk put an idea into Ron's head. He quietly tore off a scrap of spare parchment and scribbled a note into it. When Hanratty wasn't looking, he passed the note to Harry.

Harry opened it. It read, _"Didn't she tell us on the first day of class that she spent seven years here? Her file only listed six."_

Harry tried to think back to the first day of class. And then he remembered. Hanratty _had_ told them that she had spent seven years at Hogwarts.

"_You're right, she did_," Harry wrote on the note, and gave it back to Ron.

Moments later, Ron handed him a reply. Harry opened it.

"_She _lied_ to us, Harry_."

* * *

Next Tuesday, after a week of being sick, Professor Gordon finally returned to class. Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched the staff table during breakfast as the other faculty members hovered around him in sympathy. Professor Hanratty was massaging his shoulders, McGonagall was pouring him a cup of tea, and Sprout was trying to get him to eat some toast.

"Poor thing," said Hermione softly. "I'm glad he's okay."

It certainly looked as if Gordon had been ill. His complexion was milky white instead of the usual deep tan, and his cheeks were puffy. Harry watched as Hanratty suspended her massaging for just a moment to allow Lupin to wrap a scarf around Gordon's neck.

"Sweet little Desmond looks so sick," Lavender Brown soothed, in the baby voice she had used when speaking to Ron the previous year. "Maybe we should stop by his office to bring him some tea," she suggested to Parvati.

"Maybe you should just leave him alone and let him recover in peace," said Hermione quietly.

Lavender held her hands up in the air. "Fine," she shrugged, turning away from Hermione to talk to Dean Thomas.

"Look at this," Ron moaned, glancing down at the itinerary for the Azkaban field trip, which Hanratty had given them yesterday in class. "I can't believe we have to get up this early!"

"_I_ don't have to get up that early," Harry smiled.

"You know what you can do, then?" Ron asked excitedly. "You can sneak back into Filch's office with your invisibility cloak and snatch Professor Gordon's file! And while you're at it, snatch Hanratty's too. I want to know why she's only spent six years at Hogwarts. Maybe she was expelled after her sixth year!"

"Hanratty wasn't a troublemaker. Not with a file that thin, anyways," Harry told him. "Maybe she's so smart that she graduated a year early! Or, maybe she transferred out after her sixth year and went somewhere else. Beauxbatons, maybe."

"Well, if she lied to us about something as little as that, maybe she lied to us for other things, too," Ron said quietly. "Maybe she's not really on the Order's side. Maybe she's making all of it up because she's a spy for Voldemort!"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. I trust McGonagall to make good judgment on who she hires for teachers." He paused, and then lowered his voice. "But I bet you're right; the reason she left is probably listed in her file. When all of you are on that field trip next week, I'll be sure to sneak in and look!"

* * *

Hermione hadn't been paying any attention to Ron and Harry at breakfast. She had been too busy thinking.

She really hated to disturb Professor Gordon, especially when he had just been ill. But she just _had_ to talk to him.

"Come in," called Professor Gordon's voice when Hermione knocked on his door after breakfast. He sounded cheerful; Hermione took that as a good sign.

Professor Gordon was sitting at his desk, sipping tea and reading the _Daily Prophet_, when Hermione walked in. He was still pale-faced and puffy-cheeked, but his blue eyes sparkled brightly. "I'm very sorry for bothering you, Professor," she apologized immediately, "but you know that book I gave you last week?"

"The one about Azkaban, with the missing pages?" he was already sorting through a number of books on his desk, trying to retrieve it.

"Yes. I'll have it back, if you don't mind. I'll get someone else to work on it; you don't have to. I know you're very busy, and I'm sorry for ever bothering--"

Professor Gordon held up a hand. "Wait, wait!" he laughed, cutting Hermione off. "Sit down. I'll explain something to you." He gestured toward a chair in front of his desk. Hermione sat anxiously. She wanted nothing more than to leave him alone.

"When I'm sick—or, when I'm _recovering_ from being sick, I should say—I'm take the opportunity to get caught up on my reading," he explained, flipping through the book. "And yesterday, when I was in bed, I happened to pull out this book that you had given me, and…well, I don't know how I did it in my delirium, but I managed to fix it." He opened the opened the book to page 164, where a title announced, "Chapter 8: Carla Hanratty."

Professor Gordon offered the book to Hermione, whose eyes were wide open in amazement. She took the book and flipped through chapter eight. Every picture, every word, and every sentence was there. He had grown torn pages back.

"I just can't believe…you…you did this in _one day_?" she cried.

"Two hours, to be exact," he smiled. "It was no trouble at all. Now you can read about Professor Hanratty. But please remember to rip those pages out when you return that book to her. The last thing I need right now is for her to be sore at me."

Hermione was still staring at him in amazement. "But _how…_I still don't understand! Did you invent a new spell?"

Professor Gordon simply smiled and leaned forward. "_Acromagalibra_," he whispered.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Will Professor Hanratty's class have a good experience out at Azkaban? Find out in the next chapter!


	12. The Secret Meeting

**Author's Note**: How long has it been since I've updated this? I can't remember. But I'm determined to finish this story, if it takes me the next TEN YEARS!

Oh, and thank you for all of the kind comments! Your reviews make me want to continue writing!

* * *

Unluckily for Hermione, she ran into Professor Hanratty right outside of Professor Gordon's office.

"Hermione, you remember that book I loaned you on Azkaban?"

"Yes," said Hermione uneasily. She had stuffed the book into her bag as soon as Professor Gordon had given it back to her.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm going to need it back. I need to loan it to another student so he can complete a research assignment for me."

"It's okay, I've already finished it," Hermione replied smoothly. "It's upstairs in my dormitory. I'll give it back to you tomorrow in class."

"That's fine. See you then."

Hanratty was sure in a joyful mood, Hermione thought as her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher disappeared into Professor Gordon's office and closed the door. But it didn't matter. Her plan was to return back up to the Gryffindor tower, rip Chapter Eight out of the book, return the book to Hanratty tomorrow, and read Chapter Eight on her own free time. Oh, and to write a thank-you note to Professor Gordon.

Wait a second. Why had Hanratty just disappeared into Gordon's office? Had Harry been right? Was she trying to recruit him for the Order?

Even though it was against her nature to spy, Hermione thought she had no choice…she cared for the Order just as much as Harry and Ron did. Making sure that no one else was listening, she put her ear up to Professor Gordon's closed office door.

At first, there was no sound. Then she heard Professor Gordon speak. "That feels lovely, Carla," he mumbled, sounding relaxed. "You give a very nice neck massage."

"Back where I come from, we try anything to keep warm," came Hanratty's voice, sounding like never before…her voice sounded silky, sexy, and delicate. "And I know you need some extra pampering, especially after you've been sick. Do you honestly feel any better? You're awfully pale!"

"I'm fine," he admitted quietly. "But I'm very glad I ran into you here, Carla. I don't know what I would be doing without you. Ever since the moment I laid eyes on you at the start-of-term banquet, I knew I had to have you." Professor Gordon sounded hushed and anxious. Hermione had to strain to hear him through the door.

"Desmond, I'm too young for you," Hanratty insisted, almost whispering. "I'm not even thirty years old."

"But you're intelligent, and healthy, and caring….and so very beautiful," Gordon said gently. Unless Hermione was mistaken, she then heard the two of them kiss.

"Are you sure you don't want to help chaperone my field trip to Azkaban?"

"Carla, we've been over this a million times. I can't go out there. I'm fearing for my own life in so many ways already…I've already been approached by the Death Eaters once over the summer, and I know that this illness is going to kill me soon. I'm going to get very sick this winter and die, I just know it."

"_Don't speak like that_, Desmond!"

"—but I just can't bring myself to go. Being around the dementors will weaken me even more!"

"Desmond, Azkaban Island is my home," Hanratty told him worriedly. "I've been an Azkabanese citizen since age sixteen. If you want us to end up together, you have to accept that Azkaban is where I come from. My great-great-great grandfather is a dementor, and my the core of my wand is a strand from a dementor's cloak!"

"Carla, don't do this to me!" Gordon begged her. "Just kiss me! The passion we feel for each other is enough!"

Hermione heard the two of them begin kissing again. As quietly as she could, she tiptoed away from Gordon's office. Once she was out of earshot, she began walking normally, her thoughts swimming. Gordon and Hanratty were in love? One of Hanratty's ancestors was a dementor? Did that make her a half-breed, like Hagrid and Lupin?

Hermione wanted to tell Harry and Ron about what she had seen, but something told her that Hanratty was only acting; maybe she knew Gordon liked her, and she was only playing along to get him to join the Order.

At any rate, she now knew that Hanratty had lived out at Azkaban, even though she still didn't know _exactly_ what she had done out there prior to coming to Hogwarts. It was just so funny that Gordon found Hanratty attractive; did Gordon _know_ what the woman was like in class? Did Gordon _know_ that she had two different personalities?

* * *

"They were snogging in his office?" asked Ron in disbelief. The three of them were talking quietly in the Gryffindor common room.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Hermione told him, stunned that she was even discussing something like this. "And I heard her tell him that she's lived out at Azkaban since she was sixteen, and her great-great-great grandfather is a dementor."

"Sixteen, did you say? I bet that's why she stopped coming to Hogwarts after her sixth year," Harry whispered. "Maybe they wouldn't accept her as a student because she lived out there."

"At any rate, I just can't believe she's in love with him. I think she's just pretending, so that she can persuade him to join the Order. Most men will do anything to impress a woman." Hermione paused. "But then again, she asked him to chaperone our field trip next week, and he said no. So I don't know."

"Maybe the field trip will be cancelled if she can't find enough chaperones," said Ron happily. "After all, she asked Lupin too, didn't she? And _he_ turned her down!"

"Something tells me that she doesn't give up that easily, Ron," Hermione told him, rolling her eyes.

"I wish Padfoot were still here," Harry said wistfully. "He hardly ever spoke of his time out at Azkaban, but I wonder if he would have shared anything about her if I asked him."

* * *

Two days and counting until the big field trip.

On Wednesday after Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Hermione handed the book on Azkaban back to Professor Hanratty…who promptly gave it to Harry.

"Harry, you don't get off the hook that easily," Hanratty said, scowling. She had been in a very bad mood for the entire class period. "Because you're not coming on our field trip, you're going to miss out on a very educational experience. So I want you to read chapters one through three of this book, and give me a summary."

"How long?"

"_Long enough to tell me that you've_ _learned something_!"

Harry frowned. "Yes, Professor." He wasn't about to argue; in the mood Hanratty was in, he felt she could easily change her mind and force him to read the entire book.

"That will be all. Run along to your next class. Hermione Granger, where do you think _you're_ going? I need to see you, please."

Hermione gulped. Did Hanratty know that she spied on her and Professor Gordon?

Hanratty forced Hermione inside of her classroom and shut the door. She stood in front of one of the empty desks. "Empty your bookbag," she demanded.

Confused, Hermione did exactly as she was told. She opened her bag and placed everything on top of the desk. On the very bottom of her bag was Chapter Eight of the Azkaban textbook.

Hermione gulped. She had gotten so caught up in her homework the previous night that she had forgotten about it. Reluctantly, she placed the ripped pages on the desk.

Professor Hanratty picked up the torn pages and ripped them in half. Then she ripped them in half again, placed the scraps of paper on the floor, and set them on fire with her wand.

"You may collect your belongings and go," said Hanratty calmly.


	13. Back to Filch's Office

**Author's Note**: And here we are. The next installment of our adventure.

* * *

Hermione didn't tell Harry and Ron what had happened to her after Hanratty's class. Instead, she was way too confused. Had Gordon told her that he had invented a spell to grow back the pages of a book? Hermione couldn't think of any other way that Hanratty would have known about the pages that Gordon had grown back for her.

Either way, a visit to Professor Gordon was in order, Hermione decided. Even though she had sworn to never bother him again, she felt that Gordon deserved to know what had happened.

The following day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had had Transfiguration class again. Gordon had given them a pop quiz on transfiguring chairs. The class lined up, and one by one, each of them had to transfigure their chair in order to receive a grade. After fighting off Hermione and Parvati, Lavender Brown went first.

Professor Gordon turned out to be a pretty tough grader. To Harry and Ron's surprise, he was able to point out a few mistakes in Hermione's work. "But those things don't matter, not for our first quiz. You get an Outstanding," he smiled, marking it in his grade book.

Already lightheaded at being close enough to him to smell his cologne, Hermione almost fainted at his cute smile. "Thank you, Professor Gordon."

"It's _Desmond_!"

"I mean, Desmond."

Ron received an A on the quiz, and Harry an E. "Harry, your godfather once gave my friend Megara a toucan as a present," Professor Gordon told him after Harry had transfigured his chair into a wild toucan. "And frankly, they're a lot more brighter in color. You get an Exceeds Expectations. But your godfather would be very proud," he assured Harry, smiling at him.

After class, Hermione stayed behind to talk with Professor Gordon. "Professor Gordon, I thought you should know that Professor Hanratty somehow found out about what you did for me. She destroyed the pages before I got a chance to read them. She seemed very angry."

Professor Gordon frowned. "I understand, Hermione, and I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have agreed to work on that project for you. Carla—I mean, _Professor Hanratty_," he said quickly, "has a serious anger management problem. And she took the time to remind me this morning that she doesn't like others reading about her own background."

Hermione paused. "I heard a rumor that she once lived out at the Azkaban prison. Is that true?"

Professor Gordon looked uncomfortable. "Yes, there are people living out there. That book she gave you only explains so much…they're an entire race of them, they're called the Azkabanese." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Excuse me, Hermione, I'm really not feeling that well. I've been standing a lot today, and I'm very lightheaded. Shouldn't you be going to your next class?" he asked her wearily.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I suppose. But Professor, I'm very intrigued by this whole thing. What are the Azkabanese like? Are they dangerous?"

Professor Gordon shook his head. Hermione noticed that he was getting pale again. "I'm afraid I can't tell you any more."

* * *

That night, Ron and Hermione reminded Harry of what he was supposed to do the next day. "While we're on the field trip, you have to sneak into Filch's office and get Professor Gordon's file," Hermione told Harry. "And while you're at it, get Professor Hanratty's, too!" She told him what Professor Gordon had told her that morning.

"I'm sure that Hanratty will tell you all about these Azkabanese people tomorrow on the field trip," Harry told her.

"I wouldn't be so sure. Professor Gordon said she doesn't like discussing her own background."

"But you have to tell me everything important that she says!" Harry protested.

"Of course, mate," Ron agreed. "We may be leaving early, but my ears are going to be wide open!"

* * *

It took Harry a while to fall asleep that night, but he finally slept and awoke to an empty dormitory. Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Ron had all gone on the field trip. As a matter of fact, classes for the seventh years had been cancelled.

After getting dressed, Harry stuffed the Invisibility Cloak into his bag and started off downstairs. Maybe he would pay a visit to Professor Lupin and see how things were going before casually passing by Filch's office to see if it was empty.

Professor Lupin's office door was wide open, but Lupin was having a chat with Professor Gordon. Both of them were seated in comfortable chairs. Sensing that they were discussing something very interesting, Harry donned the Invisibility Cloak and stood in Lupin's office doorway, trying to be as quiet as he could.

"Desmond, I don't know what to say," Lupin admitted to his old friend. "I want to say congratulations—I mean, I know how you feel about Carla, you've been telling me all year—and the other day, you said she _finally_ kissed you, but I don't know what's happened now! Everything seemed to be going so well, and then this morning, she blew up in your face! What on earth was _that_ about?" Lupin poured himself a cup of tea.

"You know, Remus, I'll never understand women," Desmond Gordon admitted, shaking his head. "If I were Carla, I'd be _proud_ of my heritage! I'd be _proud_ of my accomplishments! But when I tried to help a student research the Azkaban prison by providing the missing pages of a book, Carla just went ballistic!" Gordon accepted a teacup from Lupin and sprinkled the tea with a generous amount of salt before sipping it.

"How on earth can you drink salty tea?" asked Lupin, grimacing.

"How on earth can you drink the Wolfsbane Potion?" Gordon retaliated coolly.

"I apologize. I was out of line." Lupin thought and sipped his tea some more. "Want to play a round of chess?"

"No thanks, I've played enough with Carla. You see us at the faculty meetings! I think chess is the only game she knows!"

But they broke out the chess set anyway and began discussing recent magical research. Harry moved on.

Filch wasn't in his office when Harry carefully walked past. Not knowing exactly how much time he had, Harry seized the opportunity and walked right into Filch's office, Invisibility Cloak still on. He reached for the drawer of the teachers' files, but couldn't find the file on Desmond Gordon.

Stunned, he took out each file and examined them as closely as he could. Nope, Gordon's file still wasn't in the drawer!

Harry replaced the remaining files and instead reached for Hanratty's. Opening it to the first page, he glanced down her basic file sheet and read her stats. She was a Slytherin, born on December 7, 1969, and arriving at Hogwarts for the first time on September 1, 1980. Her race/ethnicity was listed as "Azkabanese; citizenship pending."

Curiously, Harry read on. At the bottom of the file sheet were two footnotes; the first, dated 5/12/86, stated that Hanratty's Azkabanese citizenship had been granted, and that she was unlikely to attend Hogwarts for the 1986-87 school year. The second footnote was dated 7/16/86, asking Filch to please send a copy of Hanratty's file to the Ministry of Magic Department of Education, so they could forward her files to her new school.

"But where _was_ her new school?" Harry whispered to himself furiously. "_Why_ didn't she come back to Hogwarts?"

Unfortunately, the answers to Harry's questions failed to materialize. Harry found nothing else interesting about Carla Hanratty on her fact sheet, not even any strange illnesses. Turning the page, he glanced down her discipline record, which was very small, but all of her offenses had to go with her anger. She had tried to drop a crystal ball on Professor Trelawney's head, set another teacher's desk on fire, and slammed a door in Professor McGonagall's face.

Harry was upset. The only way he could think to unravel the mystery of Professor Hanratty was to trick someone else into telling him or to break into the Ministry of Magic Department of Education. Both ways seemed impossible.

And where was Professor Gordon's file? What on earth was Filch doing with it? Maybe Professor Gordon had stolen it himself, not wanting another mischievous student to read it.

At any rate, Harry believed that the next stop to go was the library. He may not find anything about the Azkabanese, but if he didn't at least go and check it out, Ron and Hermione would be awfully disappointed.


	14. Addison's Disease

**Author's Note**: And here we are with the next chapter…I'm on a roll…

* * *

On the way to the library, Harry had a brainstorm. Professor Hanratty was gone, and she was going to be gone all day. Why not search her office? Her office would certainly provide a window into her world…or so Harry hoped.

Harry snuck as quietly as he could to her office and used his wand to unlock her door. He cringed as he stepped inside the hideous black and white office. He made sure to lock the door, so that nobody passing by the office would suspect anything.

Hanratty was certainly a strange woman. She didn't have any personal momentos on her desk at all. Her first desk drawer, however, was filled with pictures of Carla and members of her family. Most of them just had to have been taken out at Azkaban; the North Sea raged in the background, and dementors were floating around, but the people in the pictures were always smiling and happy. How could smiling even occur out at Azkaban?

The second drawer of Hanratty's desk contained a hairbrush, some bone white face powder, a tube of blood red lipstick…and _Professor Gordon's file_. Harry just couldn't believe it.

_What in the world was she doing with it_? Had she stolen it from Filch? Unbelievingly, like he had just discovered a long lost treasure, Harry carefully lifted the folder out of her desk drawer—he had to use both hands—and placed it on her desk. He opened it to the first page and immediately searched for Gordon's medical conditions.

There it was. Under the heading 'History of Unusual Diseases,' there was a note: _This individual suffers from Addison's Disease. Please see attached report._

Curiously, Harry turned the page. He had never heard of Addison's Disease before. However, the brief report included in Gordon's file described Addison's Disease as a weakening illness caused by hormonal imbalances. "Addisonians, as they are so called, suffer from weakness and fatigue. Due to hormonal problems, their skin is said to be tan in color, and Addisonians crave a lot of salt. Addison's Disease is usually acquired and treated, but a select few individuals are born with this illness and have it their entire lives." Harry also read that people with Addison's Disease do not respond to stress very well, and can get extremely ill if they are under a lot of stress.

Following the report was a note from Madam Pomfrey, explaining that Desmond Gordon's illness had gotten substantially worse over the years, and that he was likely to die from Addison's Disease before reaching age 70. "Desmond is quite sick…he is not the happy teenager we once knew at Hogwarts during the 1950s," she wrote. "I am willing to allow him to be appointed to a teaching position as long as his health is kept in check." Obviously, McGonagall had agreed.

Stunned, Harry sat back in Hanratty's chair. So, Desmond Gordon suffered from Addison's Disease. Well, that explained a lot of things…the salt, the frequent illness, and his tanned skin. It explained why he wanted his illness kept a secret; if every girl at Hogwarts knew that he was most likely to die within the next 15 years, Gordon would be even more sought after than he was now!

But it did _not_ explain why Hanratty had his file in her desk.

Harry carefully returned Gordon's file to Hanratty's desk, and continued to search. Apart from the interesting pictures, there was nothing in Hanratty's desk that gave Harry a clue as to who she was. Frustrated, he slammed the last desk door shut. Maybe it would be worthwhile pretend he needed help with Defense Against the Dark Arts in order to spend more time in her office. Weren't the girls doing that with Professor Gordon?

Harry had just slipped his Invisibility Cloak on and was about to sneak out when the door to Hanratty's office unlocked, and Lupin and Gordon strode in. Surprised, Harry stood as still as he could.

"Desmond, we could certainly use your talent," Lupin was telling his friend and colleague quietly. "You're a genius! You've done things other wizards haven't even dreamed of!"

Gordon sighed. "Look, Remus, I've told Carla, I've told Minerva, and now I'm telling you. It'll be too much stress for me!"

"Well, I'm not going to force you into it, but I want you to at least read some things." Lupin went over to one of Hanratty's closets and opened the door. "Carla has all kinds of things in here…let's see…"

Lupin pulled a trunk out of the closet and magically opened it. He pulled out at least half a dozen pairs of heavy snow boots. "The trunk has a false bottom," he explained, and used another spell to magically reveal from documents and brochures that were hidden at the bottom of the trunk. "Read these," he said, picking up a few reports and handing them to Gordon. "Just read them. If you're still interested, Minerva, Carla, and I are always going to be here."

"All right," Gordon mumbled, looking doubtful.

* * *

Harry's classmates weren't back from Azkaban until dinnertime. Surprisingly, they couldn't stop talking about it.

"Harry, you missed _so much_!" Neville Longbottom exclaimed. "It was _amazing_! The warden and his wife grow plants out back, and they have Healers there that take the plants and make them into medicine for the inmates!" Neville was very good in Herbology, and was fascinated by anything having to do with the subject.

"You weren't scared, Neville?" Harry asked.

"Of course not! The dementors aren't scary at all when you're wearing a stress helmet."

"Well, they didn't show us the bad parts," Lavender Brown said. "We didn't walk down the halls where the prisoners were, and see them in their cells or anything. We heard screaming, though, and that was kind of scary at first, but you get used to it."

"And the people that work there are so friendly," Dean Thomas added. "The dementors are the prison guards, but they have people there doing the administrative work. And all of them live right there on Azkaban Island."

At long last, Harry was able to talk with Ron and Hermione privately. "What happened? What did you find out about her?" he asked them.

"Not much," Hermione admitted. "She didn't tell us _anything_ about herself. But everyone there knew her, so I'm still certain that she worked there before coming here."

"But the man that's the warden, Julian Brawlak, has been serving as the warden since 1981," Ron added. "That's what he told us when we met him. So she definitely wasn't in charge of the place, but I bet she worked in his office or something."

"Well, I found out some very interesting things today," Harry told them. "I went to Filch's office and saw that Hanratty is listed as an Azkabanese citizen, and she didn't return to Hogwarts for her seventh year. So I've been trying to figure out more about the Azkabanese people."

"They're humans that live out on Azkaban Island," Hermione said. "That's what Gordon told me. I also overheard Hanratty say that she's descended from a dementor. So maybe they're humans descended from dementors that live out there on Azkaban and work in the prison."

"But remember Fleur?" Ron piped up. "She was descended from a veela, and—well, you just _knew_ that she was different. The first time she walked into the Great Hall, we knew that she wasn't quite…_fully_ normal, right, Harry? Same thing with Hagrid. But these people we met out there, they're all completely normal. Same with Hanratty."

"Except for her wild temper," Harry said, and explained to them what he had found in her file.

"That's very interesting," Hermione said. "We need to research this some more. Maybe I'll hit up the library again tomorrow." There was a pause.

"By the way, I found out what Gordon's suffering from," Harry said.

"You mean, you know about his Addison's Disease?" Hermione whispered

"Yeah. Found his file and read all about it. Addison's Disease doesn't sound too bad, but he's dying from it," Harry whispered back. "They say he'll die before age 70."

Hermione nodded and wiped a tear. "I know."

After Harry explained to Ron what Addison's Disease was, he turned back to Hermione. "And you'll never guess where I found his file."

"Where? In Filch's office, right?"

"Nope. In Hanratty's."


	15. Azkaban and the Azkabanese

**Author's Note**: I can't believe it's been three years since I've updated this story. Where on earth has the time gone?

* * *

Ron agreed that Professor Hanratty was probably holding onto Professor Gordon's file for a _good_ reason. "If she's been snogging with him, I bet she's holding on to it so Filch won't have it," she told Harry.

Harry had to laugh. "I don't think she's resort to something that silly and stupid, Ron."

"Maybe she's trying to figure out a way to lure him into the Order, then, I suppose. That's what she's been trying to do for the past couple of weeks, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I reckon you're right."

"Where'd Hermione run off to? She promised she'd start my Transfiguration essay for me tonight." Ron looked worried.

"Off in the library, I think. Where else?" Harry yawned.

Hermione came back an hour later, brandishing yet another heavy book. "_Azkaban and the Azkabanese_," she explained, showing the book to Harry and Ron. "I checked it out for light reading, to know more about where Professor Hanratty comes from." She sat down in an empty chair in the Gryffindor common room and opened the book. "It says here that the Azkabanese people are physically attractive, good-natured people-"

"Sounds about right," Ron commented. "Harry, mate, you should have _seen_ some of the girls out there! Bloody hell!"

"—but that 'their personalities are fickle and unstable due to the effects of the prison and the dementors,'" Hermione continued, reading off the page. "'A person who is perfectly normal and cheerful one minute can suddenly become violent, moody, and angry the next. About fifteen percent of the Azkabanese population develops severe personality disorders, and their tempers can cause major physical destruction. Some of them even end up in the very prison they live near, being guarded by the creatures they are descended from.'" Hermione looked up from the book, pale.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked wildly. "Hanratty could have a major meltdown someday and kill us all? We already know she has a bad temper. It's in her file, remember, Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "And we've seen her with two different personalities. One's friendly, one's strict. I don't think McGonagall would have hired her if she had been one of the fifteen percent, though, Hermione."

Hermione shrugged. "Does McGonagall know as much as we know about the Azkabanese?"

"I'm not worried about McGonagall. I'm worried about Professor Gordon," Harry admitted. "He's the one snogging her." Ron had to laugh.

"That was the one time. That could have been spur of the moment," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She closed the book. "Time for Transfiguration homework."

Ron practically threw his quill and parchment at her. "Here's mine!"

* * *

Due to Professor Gordon's resignation of the post, Professor Lupin was appointed the new Head of Gryffindor. Much to Hermione's pleasure, a lot of Gryffindors were starting to leave Professor Gordon alone and bombard Professor Lupin with their problems instead.

"No, Hermione, I can't intercept delivery owls from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and confiscate the packages," Lupin sighed to Hermione for what seemed like the hundredth time the very next day. "Students are entitled to their mail."

"But Professor Lupin-"

"No buts. Go do your homework. Next?"

Colin Creevey, a sixth year, had lost his Muggle camera and was very upset. Professor Lupin swore to him that he'd get the prefects to search for it in Gryffindor Tower. Hermione sighed and headed toward the library to get some studying done before her next class.

Professor Gordon's office was on the way, but his door was closed. Just out of curiosity, Hermione put her ear up to the door and cast a spell so she could clearly hear what was being said inside. It wasn't like her to spy, but eavesdropping on Professor Gordon was different. Professor Gordon was so good-natured that he could probably never get angry at anybody.

Plus, he was still wicked cute. Even his voice was soothing and gentle.

"You need to stop, Desmond," Professor Flitwick's voice was laughing. "She'll think you're in love with her."

"I am in love with her, and she's in love with me, but she doesn't want a relationship." Professor Gordon sounded sad. "She _is _twenty-seven years my junior, but-"

"Well, that doesn't mean anything, not these days."

"And she says if we get serious, then she's going to have to bring me _home_ to _meet her family_."

"Ah." Pause. "And you're not looking forward to going?"

"That's an understatement."

Another pause. "Say, what are those?" Flitwick was asking. "Did _she_ bring those to you?"

"Yes. She brought them back from Azkaban for me. She picked some with the kids when they went on their field trip yesterday."

"The Azkaban ice lilies! Oh, I sure hope she gave some to Professor Sprout. We never get _real _ice lilies for the Herbology students to study. And for her to pick some and give them as a gift to you? You need to settle down, Desmond. You have, what, fifteen or so good years left?"

"Ideally."

Hermione stifled a giggle and continued down the hallway. In her opinion, it was probably in Professor Gordon's best interest to commence a relationship with Professor Hanratty. If, say, they were to marry, Professor Gordon would be a lot easier to bring over to the Order.

And the Order needed Professor Gordon. They needed his brilliant mind. An Order of Merlin, First Class, at the age of only _twenty-one_?

Hermione made a mental note to herself to look up what he'd won it for.

* * *

"Hermione, did you see this?"

"Did I see what, Ron?"

Hermione had _Azkaban and the Azkabanese_ open to a random page, and Ron was reading over her shoulder the next day at breakfast. "It says here that the Azkabanese people are obsessed with fires. They're not pyromaniacs, but they love fires and they have to have one burning around them at all times. It's because of the cold weather out there."

"But we didn't see a lot of fires out there, Ron."

"Not outdoors. I bet the dementors put them all out."

"Well, not indoors, either. Remember when we went into that girl's house? And Hanratty never has a fire in her office. At least, not the one time I've been in there."

"What if Hanratty gets angry at someone here at Hogwarts and sets the entire castle on fire?" Ron's eyes were going wide. "Do you think it's past her to do such a thing?"

"Honestly, Ronald. The teachers would have enough skill to put a huge fire out!"

"Shhh!" Harry hissed his two best friends. "_Here she comes_!"

Professor Hanratty was indeed walking towards them in her snow boots. She bent down to talk to Harry. "Harry, the four Quidditch captains are going to meet in my office tonight at eight o' clock. We need to talk tournament."

"Is Madam Hooch going to be there, too?" Harry asked. Usually, Madam Hooch was in charge of the Quidditch tournament between the four houses.

"Madam Hooch has her hands busy with remedial flying lessons for a lot of the first years, so I'm helping out. Bring a list of your players, or at least _prospective _players, if you haven't chosen your team yet, okay?"

"All right. Thanks, Professor."


End file.
